


Erotarcana

by hellgodsrus



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: (prenegotiated with negotiations offscreen), Aphrodisiacs, Body Horror, Cunnilingus, Eldritch Abominations Have Sex Too, Other, Oviposition, Power Play, Prehensile Clitoris, Squick, Vagina Dentata, brothel, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26500801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellgodsrus/pseuds/hellgodsrus
Summary: Welcome, welcome my dears. In these pages you will find the tale of the Erotarcana, a parahuman brothel service set up by an AFAB Crawler out of the remnants of the Nine after ze slaughtered them. Enjoy, darlings...(originally posted on QQ)
Relationships: Lisa Wilbourn/NBCrawler
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Erotarcana

**Author's Note:**

> I doubt I'll be posting the other issues of this here - the first chapter is the one I'm still proudest of. I might post Day of the Sveta if there's enough requests for it, but. Otherwise, enjoy.

The flyer had been...discrete. Hardly surprising given the establishment, its reputation and everything else. Lisa couldn’t even remember how she’d gotten _hold_ of it – she’d just woken up one morning to find herself holding a black envelope sealed with a red wax seal – _{not actually wax, biological degradable compound designed to emulate wax, designed to be conductive to vibrations, heat; solid until correct materials applied then becomes malleable}_ , her power had babbled – a simple, beautifully hand-written business card inside.

_To Whom it May Concern,_

_The Erotarcana has arrived in Brockton Bay. We are open for business for the next thirteen days. Follow the sigils._

_Lovecraft X_

It was hard not to have heard of Lovecraft and her/its/his – her power never was quite sure how to classify zir – entourage; zir defeat and overthrow of Jack Slash, zir charity contributions and fight against the Endbringers and, of course, zir business.

Erotarcana. Illegal in the extreme, invitation only – the rude would call it a brothel. A place for those whose powers made it difficult for them to enjoy sex, or perform it, or who wanted to experiment with their powers in a different context than combat, or simply those who had particular fetishes that they couldn’t experience without a powered partner.

Erotarcana’s service providers were, without exception, all former murderers of one stripe or another. From the truly infamous – Screamer, Shatterbird, Siberian – to the more recent controversies surrounding their recruitment of Canary. Discovery of politicians using their services had toppled not one, but two governments.

And they were _very_ well hidden. Multiple Strangers, multiple Thinkers, multiple Tinkers all working to keep them out of sight and moving from one city to another.

And she’d been invited.

The sigils were simple to spot. For her, at least. What would look like an odd patterned stain or a shadow on brickwork to anyone else, she instead saw as made by the same brush, with the same specially made paint and so on and so forth along the trail.

And thus she found herself at the end of the road. In the Trainyard, facing a door.

She’d agonised over the decision. It was massive expense for what, an hour or two of pleasure? It wasn’t like she couldn’t masturbate. Well, she had to clean herself very thoroughly first, but she could still do it! But they’d know what she liked, and she’d heard they could _turn off powers_ that were too troublesome to work around, that they were consummate professionals...

She knocked.

The door opened onto blackness with the creaking generally associated with a house filled with ghosts.

She stepped through.

A moment of disorientation, whirling colours, and –

– she stepped into a high arched obsidian hall decorated with elaborately laid out cobwebs – _{not actual cobwebs, set dressing, not actually obsidian, chitin castoffs}_ – and a spiral staircase climbing up she knew not where.

She’d come in costume, of course. They might not respect the unwritten rules, but they seemed to prefer to deal with the caped persona of most people.

‘Hello Tattletale.’ The voice seemed to emanate from everywhere, both a whisper and at perfectly normal volume for conversation, accent one of those obscure British ones – Glaswegian, Scouse, Cockney; she couldn’t tell the difference. _{sound trickery, glottal stops in wrong position to be created by lips and teeth, fakery}_. Screamer most likely.

‘Lovecraft not available?’

‘Oh, I’m _always_ available, dearie.’ Same voice, but somehow closer –

It should have been impossible for a seven foot tall woman in skirts almost as wide across as she was tall to sneak up on anyone. Somehow, the woman behind her had managed it.

 _{not skirts, flesh, folded rib cage, touches floor to hide limbs beneath it, multiple limbs, multiple everything, second redundant organs under skirt - }_ She didn’t want to know. Her power kept on going regardless – _{skirt is chitin, skirt is flesh, arms have retractable claws, retractable and prehensile skin, paralysing mucus, injectors}_.

‘Lovecraft.’ She tried to grin confidently.

‘Miss Wilbourne.’ Lovecraft’s face was bizarre in real life – perfect enough that it sat exactly in the uncanny valley. Poreless, porcelain white, dainty snub nose and brilliant scarlet lips with a cupid’s bow. Not a hair stirred as ze curtsied. _{hair under direct control, more akin to tendrils}_ . Thanks power. _{not dress, is naked}_ . _Thanks power_. ‘I see you accepted our invitation.’

‘Yeah. Thought I might see what you’ve got going for yourself.’ She made a point of looking around. ‘The faux goth look is interesting, I guess.’

‘It fits with the overall carnival theme we possess. A travelling circus.’

‘But with sex?’

‘Succintly put, Sarah Livesy.’

She really wasn’t rattled by that. Really. ‘So. How does this work? My selection of guys and girls, or what?’

‘We like to craft an individual experience. You are, of course, a virgin, so we will endeavour to make it a special occasion.’ Ze gestured with one arm. _{quadruple jointed, three elbows, inhuman}_. ‘Come.’

‘No discussion of payment?’

‘If I wanted your money I would have it already. We ask for a slightly different payment from our cape customers.’ Ze smiled. _{prehensile tongue, coated in mild narcotic, capable of manipulating surface texture, folded to conceal true length, teeth density equivalent to tungsten}_. ‘And it’s rude to discuss such matters before we’ve served our clients.’

The computer was disguised as a typewriter. Some clever tinkering, that was almost certain. _{not mechanical, biological, merely data entry point}_. Fuck a duck. Lovecraft’s hand glided over the keys. ‘We have a complete database of all of our residents within. Each has a unique or particular service summarised in their document. We also do offer with certain residents role-playing scenarios which are also listed within the document. Additions, such as removals of powers, specific drugs, scanning of erogenous zones prior to encounter and so on will cost more.’

‘Any examples before I dive into the files?’

‘Shatterbird and Screamer are popular as a duo. Neither likes to be in the room with clients, but they have a wide array of glass implements to use, and Screamer is very, very good at dirty talk. Think of it as sex with yourself – rough and hate filled if that’s how you feel, or something a little more tender and consoling.’

‘Isn’t that masturbation?’

‘No. We leave such fantasies to our arrays of human-controlling Masters. Others...others...ah, Apollo, the metal man. Though given his build he’d be more your new teammate’s type than yours. Dear Garotte should you have a taste for asphyxiation – though in my opinion some of our aerokinetics, especially Mistral, are better.’

‘I’m straight.’

‘You don’t have the experience to know, dear child. And please, dear, do be honest. I know how you’ve rubbed yourself to screaming orgasm thinking about your teammate and her expression when she realises how you saved her, her _gratitude_ and slim little fingers – or sometimes her rage, forcing your head between those legs and –’

‘There are no telepaths. How do you know -?’

‘How we delivered our flyer to you. We like to vet potential clients extensively.’ Ze smiled, mouth stretching impossibly, inhumanly wide. ‘Nice Guy and Valefor had wonderful reports on you.’

‘Y- you.’ They can’t have. Surely she’d remember. ‘You can’t have.’

‘Can’t have what? Ordered a whore to be fucked to test her out?’ Ze laughed and there was a low chittering to it like claws on steel. ‘The saddest part was they barely had to use their powers on you before you begged for it. They taped every second of it. What would your dear Taylor say if she saw such a thing, I wonder?’

 _{‘your dear Taylor’, spoken to hurt, emphasis on dear rather than your, phrasing – ‘begged’, ‘whore’ ‘wonder’ – not her choice of words}_ . What – _{enjoying this, has seen you naked before, has spoken to you before, your own choice of words - }_

Lovecraft sighed. ‘Darn it. You figured it out again, didn’t you?’

‘This is a fantasy I paid for, isn’t it?’ Lisa wasn’t sure how she could both feel indescribable relief and comprehensive disgust at herself.

‘Second attempt actually.’ The petulant voice seemed to ring from loudspeakers. ‘Arranging the surgery necessary to get you to think and act the right way and forget the memories of your first visit here was really hard.’ _{tinker, responsible for computer, didn’t design tech to alter memories, but did use it}_.

‘Now now Anansi. We can hardly help it if our client has such a versatile power.’

 _{said affectionately, knows you well, has had sex with you before}_.

‘Bwuh.’

‘Ah, and now she’s bridged the gap and worked out some of the rest.’ Lovecraft somehow managed to make zir horrendous smile contain a touch of whimsy. ‘Anansi darling, leave us be. Lisa and I need to catch up.’

A distant giggle and the clatter of metal feet. _{robots under control, source of Anansi’s voice, made by Anansi, have eight legs}_ . ‘Mmm. You asked to be made like this you know. A little weak, a little unsure. Taking control back, I think. Or so my dollar book psychiatry tells me.’ Ze walked closer. _{deliberate muscle shifts putting sashay in hips, knows you’ll notice, knows you like the voyeurism of being caught watching particular behaviours}_ . ‘My dear, it seems your fantasy has failed, but that won’t prevent us having – some – _fun_.’ 

Lisa was sure there was a damp patch spreading down her legs, but even she wasn’t sure whether it was piss or _arousal_ , at the idea of this master seductress who knew everything about her and about whom she knew _nothing_ . This freefall was exhilaratingly _different_.

‘Maybe something a little – simpler.’ The grin stretched wider. Lovecraft’s face was virtually splitting in two from it, the ordinary teeth retracting and twisted tusks and canines taking their place, something flickering behind them. _{more tongues, fully capable -}_.

A sting on her arm and the voice of her power shut off. Glancing down, Lisa saw a small bloated shape like a tick dropping away from her. Some sort of device? Something to turn –

She hadn’t noticed how close Lovecraft had gotten.

Her shriek of surprise half died as one hand with fingers that seemed far too long wrapped round her waist, lifting her up even as the other swept round, unfolding at the elbow – no, a second arm coming from the elbow, previously folded back against the upper arm like a mantis-claw, forming the puff of the ‘sleeves’ of Lovecraft’s armour – and smashed the typewriter into pieces against the wall with a casual backhand. She struggled feebly.

Lovecraft pressed a single digit to her lips. It was jointed, dark, insectile. It tasted like lemons. Lisa looked into that face – the horrifying mouth, up the dainty nose and to the dark eyes. She suddenly noticed that the pupils weren’t human – semi diagonal patterns of slots, half disguised by the dark colour of the iris.

‘Now Lisa,’ – and ze hissed her name with a slight drone to it, like a swarm and fuck her if it didn’t make her tremble and shake – ‘Lisa darling.’ The fingers on her waist tightening, drumming. 

Then the claws raked up her back, brushing against her skin as they tore the costume from her, the clinging material vanishing, pulling away – but the blades somehow didn’t cut her, just ran themselves against her spine. An implied threat, not a true one.

She was dropped to the floor, skidded away, struggling out of the remaining scraps of purple material as Lovecraft advanced, hair unfastening itself and fanning out around her head like an unholy halo. Her dress flapped, folding and unfolding and dissolving and revealing the legs she used to walk, bent back arthropod abominations and sliming tendrils pushing her forwards.

She crawled backwards. The stone was cold beneath her, bra strap pressing into her back. Lovecraft followed, more arms unfolding from the corset of zir dress like a hindu goddess – some almost human, others with what looked to be biological syringes and medical equipment surrounding them. The primary tongue – Lisa could see others swirling in that jaw – flicked across her lips as she advanced. The legs parted more – the folds and petticoats of the dress had slimmed back into a bustle-like tail, and on the underside were pulsating orifices that flexed with every step Lovecraft took.

She couldn’t tell what they could do. She couldn’t tell anything about Lovecraft. Nothing new, nothing different.

‘You like it like this, don’t you Lisa?’ Claws gently wrapped itself around her arms, pinning her to the floor with zir squamous weight. ‘Being _worthless_ . Being _stupid_.’ The tendrils slithered against her shins, crawling and rolling against them, higher and higher up past the knee –

A single touch against her underwear was enough for her to _moan_ , the sort of wanton noise she didn’t indulge in even when she knew she was alone. It was too much, something touching her not moved by her own hands she could barely think about the texture or how the uncomfortably expensive lingerie she was wearing would be ruined by the slimed residue that stuck to her. Claws slipped over her shoulders, pulling down her bra straps, even as more claws set to work stroking the edge of her breasts, sharp and rough edges almost cutting her but never quite breaking the skin.

Lovecraft’s hair unfurled further, reaching over zir shoulder from where she towered over Lisa’s prone form, wrapping around her arms and collarbone and stroking and rubbing, rising to wrap round her throat and massage it and that danger was even more intoxicating than what those bizarre multi-elbowed arms were doing to her chest, squeezing and shifting and playing with her like she was a _toy_.

‘It is nice to have you quiet for once, Lisa.’ Those tongues flicking out of the mouth – they were different shapes, some like spades, some pointed, some forked. Without her power she didn’t know what they could do, what they were _for_. ‘Always talking. You prefer it this way, I think.’

‘This – ah – this your little fantasy?’

‘Always questioning. Darling, you’d know if it was my fantasy. But I suppose you didn’t come here to be _groped_ or _talked dirty to_. You came here to be [/fucked]. So let’s put that power of yours to good use.’

The claws over her breasts unfolded – ah, there’s the retractable skin – little needle like blades slipping out and into the very centre of her nipples and the feeling was so intense her eyes rolled upwards and out of her control. Not so much a spike as a constant, heated pressure and suction, and she could feel them moving inside her flesh, working a little deeper.

And then she felt them spasming under the force of the injection of some sort of venom, and with the tendrils playing over her panties that was enough to almost send her into oblivion. She was trying to thrash to get closer, but those claws held her firm. ‘Easy, easy, Lisa. I wouldn’t want to hurt you. It’ll take a few seconds to take effect...’

 _{ - wants to hurt you, you deserve this, what you’ve always needed, ze can make you cum, can make you beg -}_.

‘What – what did you do?’ The torrent of information was unending, more and more of it about how violated she would be, how dirty she was, how she’d wanted this for so long –

She came, hard, screaming and crying and begging for more, and all while Lovecraft laughed, and that somehow made it better, that melodious little chuckle, so inhuman, so delightfully wrong. And the information _didn’t stop_ . _{you liked that didn’t you, being in my grip, giving in to me, lose it, lose it all, you don’t need anything other than zir rubbing against you all ridges and eyes and bone -}_.

A slight sting. ‘Let’s tone it down a bit shall we? That was slightly more – extreme a reaction than we had tested for. Don’t want to lose sight of the big picture, do we darling?’

The information faded. It was still there, but pieces, impressions, not the previous neverending torrent of filth. She could still feel it, pulsing little waves of pleasure through her and leaving her spreadeagled, no desire to cover herself and full of languid desire.

Her sight focused in from the blur her orgasms had left her, settling on Lovecraft. Zir legs had spread further, revealing – her power told her that it was zir _{pussy – wet}_ but at the moment Lisa wasn’t entirely sure that it wouldn’t say that if she looked at anything. The scent from it was different from the smell of her own juices – slightly nutty like a good roast.

Of course, the most notable part of it was the limber flexible not-quite thread that extended from it. Her power assured her it was a clitoris, and a prehensile one that was going to do wonderful and terrible things to her. The teeth she could see deeper inside Lovecraft promised that too.

The hands lifted her up, legs and arms still spread, almost painfully so. She could feel the strain in the joints of her shoulders, her hips, as Lovecraft adjusted her so both their vaginas were level, those lips and teeth mere centimetres from her flesh. She could hear them _gnash_.

Then ze pulled them together.

In that instant she felt that tiny weapon flit up and down her length thirty, forty times, probing and prying between her lips, _tasting_ her – then their heads were pulled together and lips met and those tongues slid into her mouth. Everything turned fuzzy.

They pushed against the inside of her throat. They rubbed against her own tongue and teeth. And all the while that incredible second mouth, that vagina dentata worked on her, nibbling and probing and _licking_ and touching –

She tried to press closer, to reciprocate, but Lovecraft held her still, still working, still teasing and trapping and overflowing her. Fuck her, her power was _right_ – she wanted to _stay here_ to do anything for this entrancing eldritch goddess to keep zir pleased, to keep her in zir arms.

What a good little hussy she was.

Finally her lungs screamed for air, and she drew her head back, drooling, her gums and jaw aching and sore. She didn’t care – she knew the makeup that filled in between her domino mask and her eyes was a muddy wreck – she just wanted to regain her breath as fast as possible so those tongues could pour back down her throat.

‘Oh no darling. We can do that again later.’ A disorienting shift in perspective as Lovecraft spun her round. She whined as that clitoris left her but now she was face to face with it, and more tendrils were wrapping round her, presenting themselves to her fingers and face as the blood rushed to her head. ‘Now. You pleasure _me_.’

It was like a french kiss, made better by the fact that she knew each swirling touch of her tongue to the thing wriggling between her lips was making Lovecraft _moan_ , that even as their teeth clashed and the pressure grew stronger she was paying zir back. Warm sticky wetness around her fingers, pulsing, probing. She surfaced and a different vagina was pressed to her face. Still the same warm, wholesome taste – like a Sunday roast.

The first tongue to enter her was one of the spade shaped ones – she felt it unfurl within her and begin to writhe even as a forked one wrapped itself round her clit and began to manipulate it – and she screamed in pure ecstatic joy into the tendril-cunt that was fucking her face.

She orgasmed again, then again, then again, as her vision narrowed. Finally she was cast down, still arcing her back for contact that was gone, licking thin air, pumping fingers slick and slimed together into nothingness.

‘Dear me. You’re almost ready.’ Lovecraft settled zirself over her. ‘Almost gone. Not good for much but bugs – ah, that gives me an idea!’ _{lying, knew what to do with you all along}_. ‘Normally we vat-grow certain creatures for Anansi but I think today I can make an exception.’

A host for some alien insect creature? Some tinker made, biological nightmare birthed from her?

Stings on her labia. ‘To ensure it stretches properly. Now, we need to make sure your little babies are well fed while they’re in there – you’d forget, wouldn’t you?’ Something rubbing against her sopping thighs, slipping up them and then –

It wasn’t like she’d never used a dildo, or her fingers. But never anything that stretched her so much so fast, reaching up inside, working its way up, pressing higher and higher and higher.

And then it started pulsing, and she felt it jetting _something_ into her, not in individual sprays but in a constant stream, and she could hear it, feel it through bones, impaling her, rising her up –

At some point she came. She wasn’t sure if it was her power’s constant reminders that this was all she could ever be good for, that pleasant numb haze that still lingered on her tongue beside Lovecraft’s juices, or the sheer wanton self-destructiveness of knowing that she had asked for this, asked for all of it. Asked for the tightening of the skin of her stomach, the fullness, the feeling that she couldn’t take any more and would simply burst from how much was inside her.

The nutrient pump pulled itself from her, splashing purple goop across her stomach. It was thick, its surface tension compressing it into balls that like mercury ran across the dome of her belly to the floor. She scrabbled for one, pushed it into her mouth with her gooey fingers, savouring the fruity taste.

She lay there for a long time, Lovecraft wrapped round her, until her power went back to normal, until the last shivers of pleasure subsided. Ze made a surprisingly good cuddling partner, good enough that she almost didn’t mind the cold floor.

Finally she spoke.

‘You said I wanted this because of the control.’ She was surprised by how languid her own voice sounded, the little tremor to it.

‘Mmm. Dollar book psychology, darling. Coil took control of your life – and your parents did before that, but I haven’t read enough Freud to go _that_ far. They made you hurt, and thus you want to hurt them, to hurt him. That lack of control is what hurts you, not the way he applied it. You wanted – want – a situation where your lack of control was under your control.’ _{believes what she is saying to a certain extent, knows detail is more complex, not entirely concentrating, unguarded}_. An opportunity for more information.

‘Dollar book psychology.’ She wriggled a little. Her stomach still felt uncomfortably taut, and she could feel something dribble down her thigh before one of Lovecraft’s manipulator palps wiped it away. _{biodegradable substance, tinker designed, no actual alien babies}_. She felt mildly disappointed by that revelation.

‘It’s a good deal more complex, of course.’ _{amused tolerance of your own ignorance on the subject, knows you’re probing, doesn’t mind}_. ‘But it’s a decent start.’

‘You’re –’

‘Not what you expected? Not just earthy groans, dirty jokes and tentacles? My dear I’m no _whore_ . I am a _hetaira_.’

It had been a long time since she’d studied Classics. She’d abandoned a lot of her knowledge of it because her parents had forced it on her. But with a little thought – ‘Companion.’

‘It’s never really about the sex. _Anyone_ can have sex. What we sell is comfort. Understanding. An open ear, an open heart. No preconceptions.’ _{deliberately emphasising appeal of work, oversimplifying}_.

‘It sounds like you want to – hire me.’

‘Oh _no_ .’ _{partial lie – would like to hire you}_ . ‘You’d be useful here. No doubt of that. Someone with your, mmm, skills. Not even serving customers though there are some you’d be _ideally_ suited to. Just – analysing them. What they _really_ want. What they _really_ need.’

‘Checking the dollar book for you.’

‘Yes, dear.’ _{smiling, all mouths smiling, aroused by your impertinence}_ . ‘Something like that. But – you’d want to be equal partners. To run the things you thought you could run best. And you wouldn’t, and I couldn’t abide that. I’d end up eating you. And Coil wouldn’t allow me to grab you, and I can’t hurt him.’ _{real regret, hunger – is thinking about what it would be like to work alongside you, what it would be like to rend you limb from limb}_. ‘Webs within webs.’

Lisa swallowed. ‘Maybe – maybe some other day.’

‘Mmm. There’s a thought.’ _{picked up on nervousness, hunger was deliberate to check response}_. ‘Of course we haven’t finished today’s session.’

‘We haven’t?’ A sting on her hip, a small brass spider scuttling away, and the voice of her power faded.

‘Oh no, my dear. After all, I did all those horrible things to you. Took you and took you and took from you. Don’t you want to pay me back, darling. Darling Lisa, darling darling darling –!’


End file.
